


Destination: Anywhere But Here

by RiotKid



Series: Urban Nomads!verse [2]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Lack of Communication, M/M, minor character death (past), shameless fluff, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotKid/pseuds/RiotKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>look at this emo-ass title.</p><p>Destination Nowhere 2: Reloaded (feat. the emo intensifying)<br/>[note to self: add summery]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Starless City

Sometimes Josh disappears for days. Time and time again, Ashley has told Tyler not to worry, that he just goes wandering sometimes, but Tyler can never stop worrying. He leaves Josh voicemails and texts him, regardless of the radio silence. Tyler knows he's being clingy, but, he rationalizes, it's better than the alternative.

When Josh wanders off, Tyler doesn't sleep.

He stares at their ceiling, terrified of the day Josh doesn't come home, or worse, doesn't come back alive.

..--..

Josh is lost. His phone is dead and his hoodie is too thin to keep the sharp October air from slicing into him.

In the back of his mind, he is aware that Tyler must be worried sick, that no matter how common his disappearances are, they never get less nerve-wracking for Tyler. Idly, he regrets the urge to shrug off his life, if only for a few hours, but he’s been waking up with scratches on his body that he knows Tyler didn’t leave, and this seemed like the only compromise between leaving and staying.

He knows he should be home, sleeping, curled around Tyler like he could shield him from all his demons. He should be, but he isn't.  
Instead, he’s tucked into the corner of a bus stop, hands wrapped tight and nearly-numb around a slowly cooling paper cup of coffee.

Josh drops his head against the back of the cold, metal bench and sighs, hood tipping off his hair.

 _Time to face the music,_ he thinks.

As he hauls himself to his feet, a bus pulls to a stop in front of him, doors hissing open.

Smiling a greeting at the bedraggled driver, Josh briefly ponders if maybe, just maybe, there really is a higher power looking out for him, somewhere. But it’s too late for existentialism, and as the rumble of the tires and hum of the lights lull him to complacency, he finds himself increasingly drawn to a warm bed, and his small, tattooed boyfriend.

..--..

It isn’t always bad. Josh either works from home or from Any Beans Necessary. Turns out, people actually like his art, but when he isn't working on a commission, he's picking through computer code until everything runs smoothly.

In the mornings, he wakes up next to Tyler, next to warm smiles and sleepy kisses.

Sometimes, when they putter about the kitchen in the mornings, wearing each other's clothes, Josh wonders how he got so lucky. Wonders how he managed to find someone who is so damn patient and kind, wonders why Tyler sticks around, wonders why the smaller of the two still has demons biting at his heels when he's never done anything to deserve it. Sometimes, Tyler hooks his chin over Josh's shoulder, and all his wonderings disperse like leaves on the wind. Josh likes it when that happens.

Tyler, he learns, is empathetic to a fault, which ranges from good to bad, depending on the circumstances. Bringing Josh a snack when he's debating leaving his desk for food? Good. Getting anxious when Josh does? Not good.

Josh is still working on the whole anxiety thing, but as long as he doesn't peace out without telling anyone, and Tyler doesn't flirt with falling, everything's alright.

..--..

Tyler floats into consciousness to find a curly-haired boy and a gust of cold air creeping under the blanket next to him. Grumbling sleepily, he pulls Josh close, intent on leeching his warmth as much as reassuring himself that they're both there.

Josh rubs his cheek against Tyler's soft, shaggy hair, and smiles. _Yeah,_ he thinks. _Everything's alright._


	2. Leave This All Behind; Face The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is Hell and i am Suffering
> 
> title from bohemian rhapsody by queen

Tyler strikes a match, watching the flame dance and flicker, before letting it drop with a sizzle to the damp pavement. He strikes another, this time letting it kiss his fingertips before letting go. Running out of matches, he sighs, reclining against the rough brick wall.

It’s been three months since Josh first kissed him, his own demos providing a soundtrack.

It’s been three months, but who’s counting? Days flicker past like a newsreel. Monday, flushed his meds, Tuesday, worked all day, Wednesday, panicked until he threw up what little he'd eaten that day.

Every day is its own battle; convincing Josh to stay, Tyler to live. Sometimes, they lose. Sometimes Josh goes missing for days on end, or Tyler sits on the edge of the roof and watched his shoelaces float in the breeze as the ground sways several floors below.

Every Thursday, Tyler talks to his doctor. He’s been feeling better lately, no, he hasn’t been taking his meds, but it’s okay. It saves money, and he can write better when he isn’t drugged. Besides, Josh makes him feel better than any medication ever could and, yes, he knows that sounds unhealthy, but really, everything’s fine.

Really, it is.

Sometimes his doctor asks him other questions. When did he last talk to his family, has he been eating regularly, does he still think he deserves to hurt.

No, he hasn’t talked to his family since Christmas, he’s caused them enough trouble, right? If he doesn’t talk to them that saves them all the panic of losing him again, right? Besides, they’ve probably forgotten him. It’s not like he matters all that much. Yes, he has been eating. Probably? He eats when he gets hungry, but sometimes he forgets, alright? He isn’t skin and bones or anything, really everyone needs to calm down a bit. And, no, he doesn’t deserve to hurt… all the time. He’s stopped scratching through his skin when he gets upset, but he still isn’t allowed to want things. Most of the time, he doesn’t want things, and it isn’t a problem. But sometimes he lapses, gets greedy, selfish. Sometimes he _wants_. The last time that happened, he let himself be kissed. Let a boy love him, even though he didn’t, doesn’t deserve to be loved.

Tyler is still paying penance for that, for every time he lets Josh hug him like he’s a thing of worth, every time Josh wraps himself around Tyler like the world’s best blanket.

Tyler is going to hell. He knows it, everyone else probably does too. He still repents, though. He still tries.


	3. Go Back To The Start (See How It All Began)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone at camp wanted to read this it was like in oitnb only without the weird scary alien sex stuff. they were literally passing around my laptop and crying.
> 
> warning for mentions of past minor character death and drug use

Josh wakes up guilty, but god knows why. Some mornings a heavy bitterness settles in his chest. On mornings like this, he’s almost nostalgic for his Spartan pickup truck bedroom. Nostalgic for waking up, arms empty.

He never should’ve let this happen.

..--..

Josh grew up in a big family. He remembers the incessant ruckus fondly, but without the desire to experience it again. His siblings were smart, outgoing, and extroverted. Ashley made a name for herself in math, while Abby excelled in science, and Jordan kicked everyone’s ass with his writing.

His parents told him that he was just a late bloomer, he’d find his place one day, but Josh thought otherwise. He wasn’t made for this.

Josh had never been “quite right”, and when he tossed back a handful of pills like so many M&Ms, his family hardly hesitated to comment on it. They meant no harm, only to comfort themselves on not saying anything before.

Something changed in Josh after that, after he failed at the simplest of tasks. He spent long hours in his room, slamming out rhythms on his kit until his sticks broke and his fingers bled. When his parents tired of the noise, he ran, long rough trails, until his muscles screamed with exertion and his skin stung from sweat and the whip-like plants lining the paths.

He never told them about the things nipping at his heels, the ones who tormented his sleep and shadowed his waking hours. But he didn’t touch the pills again, so his parents didn’t pry.

When he turned sixteen, Josh borrowed the keys to the family van for the first time, and drove it to the middle of nowhere. He slept in the car and screamed at the mountains until his voice stopped. That night, the monsters couldn’t find him, and he slept like a corpse.

Eventually, his empty back roads stopped being a sanctuary. The nightmares caught wind of his excursions and started tagging along. Every few months, he would pick a new direction and start driving. And every few months, each new refuge would be plagued with invisible beasts and he would have to leave.

Perhaps, he thinks, that’s how it began.

..--..

Tyler always intended to go to college. He had ambitions and dreams and a promising basketball career and everything was going great. Tyler hadn’t had an anxiety attack in years and his mental state was stable enough that he didn’t have to be medicated.

Near the end of his senior year, he got into the local scene. His favorite nights were the ones filled with distorted guitars and screaming feedback. His jeans and shirts gradually get shredded, but every night that the brutal music wraps around his skinny frame, he lets all his anger be washed away.

His friend Mark starts introducing him to the bigger bands of the scene and the underside of it. The dark, gritty bars, embraced by even dirtier alleyways start to fit like a second skin.

When one of Marks friends passes him a joint, in the throes of a post-concert high, Tyler doesn’t think to hesitate.

The smoke weaves its way around his mind, softening his thoughts and cottoning out any outside noise. He sighs, relaxing backwards, letting the world fade out around him.

After that, finals start, and life gets hectic, and he starts taking solace in smoking up as much as throwing himself around in shitty bars.

He gets his first tattoo- four rectangles on his chest, almost like a window into his heart- from a friend of a friend, stretched out on a musty couch, joint hanging loosely from his fingers.

..--..

Tyler graduates with honors, and makes his way to Ohio State. College isn’t as difficult as everyone had said, and when he can’t handle the stress, he calls Mark, and they smoke up together in Tyler’s tiny dorm room.

One night during midterms, Mark leaves Tyler dozing on his floor, saying he needs to get back to his room and study. Tyler waves him away, mumbling indecipherably.

Mark never makes it home that night. The weed slowed his reflexes and when a car swerved into his lane, he hadn’t had time to pull the steering wheel.

Tyler lost his faith when Mark died, hiding the chain holding his cross under his bed, and hiding himself in Any Beans Necessary. He avoids his family’s phone calls and drops out of college.

He could’ve stopped this. He should’ve. 

He didn’t.


	4. The Place I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ive been told not to make anyone cry today. im not good at doing what im told.
> 
> title from Country Roads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if someone does art or a mix or something for this verse i might shit myself in excitement. lease show interest in what's happening. (please comment)
> 
> im ashamed that any of this exists but im blushing so hard put me out of my misery

Josh picks Tyler up from work in his red pickup. When Tyler shuts the door behind him, Josh is grinning a Cheshire smile; big, and full of secrets.

Buckling his seatbelt, Tyler leans across to press his own smile to Josh’s. “What’s up, hot stuff?”

Josh laughs, shaking his head fondly.

"Where are we heading?" Tyler asks as they pull into traffic.

"I'll never tell, Joseph." Josh mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key.

Tyler leans back, trying to look morose. “If you won’t tell me, you’re not getting any tonight, _Dun_ ,” he threatens, playfully.

Josh laughs again, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Like you could resist all this, dude.”

Tyler huffs, affronted. “Please, like you’re much better at it.”

They banter easily throughout the drive, Tyler relenting and resigning himself to being surprised by their destination. Somewhere along the way, in the comfortable silence between snarky comments, Tyler drifts off, listening to the hum and rumble of tires across asphalt.

He wakes, briefly, when Josh has to pull over for gas, but with his boyfriend carefully petting his hair and pressing gentle kisses to his head, Tyler quickly slips back asleep.

Hours later, Josh carefully shakes him awake, laughing at Tyler’s grumpy protests. As Josh tugs him from the car, Tyler scrubs at his eyes with his free hand. Around them, the empty road winds away into the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the setting sun painting them in shades of gold and pink.

Josh leads his awestruck boyfriend around to the back of the truck, switching on a lantern once they crawl into the camper shell. The shell protects them from the worst of the chilly autumn air, but they burrito themselves in blankets nonetheless.

Facing each other in the almost-dark, legs tangled, Josh tells him stories, the ones he grew up with, and those belonging to the Appalachians. He doesn’t know if he can give Tyler forever, but right now, curled next to him, Josh almost feels like he has.

And as the sun disappears in a watercolor blur, Tyler burrows closer to Josh in the warm confines of their blanket nest, tucking his cold nose into the dip of Josh’s clavicle and sighing.

Josh presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s hair. If they can’t have forever, they at least deserve to have this.

..--..

Tyler wakes up slowly, seeping into wakefulness like molasses.

Josh is pressed into his chest, a warm, safe weight. Tyler smiles softly, watching Josh snuffle in his sleep and wriggle away from the chill creeping under the blankets.

Tyler’s phone proclaims it to be scarcely five in the morning, and when he glances out of the truck, the sun is barely peeking over the mountains.

Turning his attention back to the small bundle of Josh next to him, Tyler slips a hand under the sleeping boy's hoodie, digging his fingers into Josh's warm side, tickling him awake.

..--..

Josh wakes up, startled and laughing, before he's even quite sure what's going on. He writhes away from Tyler, unsuccessfully; Tyler follows, octopus tendencies giving him an edge.

At long last, Josh manages to pry himself out of Tyler's grasp and pin his troublesome partner to the bed.

Tyler's laughter dies in his throat, and he stares wide-eyed, up at Josh.

Josh grins down, feral, hands tightening on Tyler's wrists as he asks, "Did you need something, baby boy?"

Trying to point despite his restrictions, Tyler stutters, "The, uh, the sun is rising behind the mountains, and, uh, it looks pretty?"

Josh relaxes his grip slowly, crawling off of Tyler. "I think I still have a camp stove in here," he says, rummaging through the drawers under the bed. Brandishing a handful of packets above his head, triumphantly, he announces, "Swiss Miss for breakfast!"

Climbing past Tyler to open the back of the truck, Josh drops a kiss on his forehead. "I got you the kind with the rainbow marshmallows, baby."

Tyler grins, blush still painting his cheekbones as he clambers out of the truck after Josh.

Still wrapped in his blankets, Tyler ambles over to the patch of dirt Josh has deemed their temporary kitchen.

Later, instant cocoa warming his hands and Josh warming the rest of him, Tyler's smile threatens to rival the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo boy that ending was fully unanticipated
> 
> legit tho please comment. im always here for predictions or reactions or constructive criticism.


	5. A Little Bit Of Devil In His Angel Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comment if u think i should stop making them suffer. or if you think i should. im really on the fence about it.

Josh isn’t really sure he likes Tyler. No, that’s a fucking lie, he loves this strange, slightly-shorter man. He isn’t quite sure he like _relationships_.

He’s only really dated two other people. A girl named Jessie, when he was in sixth grade, and a boy named (ironically) Angel, when he was seventeen.

Angel hadn’t been anything special; meeting him was no red-letter day, just a dirty high school hall and an outstretched leg. Josh had still been reeling from the violence with which he’d been outed, and Angel was a pretty boy who’d pulled him to his feet and dusted him off. _Thoroughly._

Barely a week later, bonelessly wrapped in sweaty sheets and cigarette smoke, Josh confessed his need to run, to be constantly moving. Angel had tossed his head back, bite marks shamelessly on display, and laughed, “That’s fuckin’ weird, man”.

Josh had shrunk away, curling in on himself, ashamed of the burn in his chest, the ache in his gut that hadn’t gone away since he thought “escape” was synonym for death.

Angel had stubbed his cigarette out on the sheet, chuckles still rumbling in his chest as he unfurled Josh’s arms and legs, mumbling, “Hey there, no, come on, don’t do that”. Even now, Josh doesn’t know what Angel saw in his eyes in that moment, but he had kissed Josh so hard he’d forgotten their names and the emptiness inside him.

And at the time, that was as good as anything he could’ve ever said.

Angel and Josh weren’t in love, they never were. Or at least, Angel never was. Josh was still young enough to think Angel was The One, but old enough to think this was different from every childhood fairy tale, that this was _real._

The only other time Josh had mentioned his urge to leave had been when he’d worked up the guts to ask Angel to run away with him. It’d taken weeks, and all Angel had done was pat Josh’s cheek and shake his head sadly, with bitter, fond amusement playing at his lips.

For all the times Josh’s pleasure-blurry mind had mistaken Angel for a work of God, for all his seraphic beauty, Angel had only been human. And in the end, he just wasn’t in love with Josh.

And in the end, Josh had driven off alone, always alone.

..--..

One of the first things Josh and Tyler did as a couple, was move Tyler out of his old apartment, and into one that wasn’t riddled with his own ghosts. He may not sleep well in new places, but he sure as hell hadn't slept well in the old one, not with fragmented reflections of his mistakes staring down at him while he slept, as if he'd succeeded, as if his pajamas were a suit and his bed, a coffin.

He doesn't tell Josh about this. He doesn't really have to; Josh doesn't like it there either, too many memories of finding Tyler crying on the roof, the windowsill, the floor.

Anyway, his new apartment is closer to the coffee shop, only a ten minute walk away. Better yet, it isn't just his, and when he gets home on colder days, Josh is there with the promise of kisses to soothe his wind-burned cheeks.

Moving had involved problems, as can be expected of any such endeavor. They lost all of their (their!!) dishes for a solid week, before finally discovering which box they were in.

Once all the boxes had been dragged up a million (or four. Tyler's a little bad at math.) flights of stairs and Josh's shirt had gone missing, they stand in the middle of their new home, surrounded by nearly all of their worldly belongings.

"Well," Josh began, hands firmly planted on his hips, out of breath and glistening with sweat. "That is the ugliest fucking wallpaper I've seen in my entire life."

And when Tyler's smile threatens to split his face as his laughter spills out, Josh can't resist pulling him in for a kiss.

Sometimes he still marvels that he is allowed to do that, that for once, the world let him have this, have Tyler.

..--..

It's an unseasonably warm November afternoon. Tyler drags Josh through the weekend-long street fair, laughing as the blushing boy stumbles over himself to keep up with his sprightly companion.

Tyler nearly falls, laughter catching in his throat, when Josh stops abruptly."... Josh?"

"Ty. Ty, they have _kittens_." The unrestrained awe on Josh's face nearly melts Tyler's heart, and he allows himself to be the one dragged across the street.

Mere seconds later, Josh is criss-cross-applesauce on the sun-warm pavement, cooing over an unbelievably tiny, nutmeg colored ball of fluff.

Tyler quickly finds that the only thing cuter than Josh's bashful, irrepressible grin, is Josh's grin accompanied by a tiny kitten. Josh puppets the small animal, making him wave at Tyler. He pitches his voice way above usual as ~~he~~ the cat says, "Hello, Ty, my name is Cinnamon. How're you?"

Josh giggles, peering up at Tyler from the ground, and Tyler honestly wonders how Josh never notices the way he takes Tyler's breath away. Out of nowhere, it hits Tyler that this is the happiest and most uninhibited he has ever seen Josh.

Tyler crouches down, smile growing as he asks, "Hey, J-man. You wanna get the cat?"

Josh doesn't look up, still baby-talking to Cinnamon, "I live in a truck. Little kitties wouldn't like it there. No, they won't. Oh, no, they won't." He resumes his cooing, almost like he hadn't heard himself speak.

Tyler's smile falters, but he's quick to paste it back on. "Joshie?"

At the distress in his tone, Josh looks up from the mewling creature, worried.

Taking a deep breath and trying (failing) to steady his voice, Tyler says, "Joshie, you don't live in a truck anymore. We have an apartment."

All the color drains form Josh's face, Cinnamon all but forgotten. "Ty, baby, I'm so sorry, I forgot. I keep thinking this is something I'll wake up from? Like, I spent eight years living in that car, I forget that I don't anymore."

Tyler stays silent, eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

Finally he looks up, determination burning in his eyes. "We're getting the damn cat."


	6. Break Like A Fever, Like A Bad Habit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its been two years ryan.
> 
> title from one of my favorite poems from one of my favorite poets: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhAQuQ1_tRM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rest in fucking pieces

They're curled together, the syrupy sunset sticking to their bare skin, much like the sweaty sheets do, as they settle back into themselves.

Josh presses open kisses to Tyler's already damp skin, and Tyler laughs softly every time Josh's breath tickles him.

Josh giggles, easing himself away from the temptation of Tyler's smooth, pale skin. He flops gracelessly next to his boyfriend, cupping Tyler's jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss. Tyler melts into it, as he usually does, body curving toward Josh the way a compass pulls north.

"Joshie?" Tyler's voice blooms in the thick evening air. "Tell me a secret?"

Josh huffs out another laugh, smoothing his hand through Tyler's close-cropped hair. "What do you wanna know, baby boy?"

Tyler rolls closer, tucking his chin into Josh's clavicle, letting Josh's arm curl around him. "Why'd you run away?"

Josh 'hmm's, fingers still combing through Tyler's unruly mane. "I think I was looking for something. I dunno, Ty. The city doesn't fit right. Ya know, like a pair of jeans where the waistband digs in just a bit too much."

Tyler nuzzles his pointy little chin a little deeper into Josh's shoulder. "So why are you still here?"

Josh scoffs into Tyler's hair. "I'm here for you, you idiot."

"But if you don't like it here--" Tyler's voice gets higher, insecurities surfacing.

Josh grasps his boyfriend's jaw again, this time forcing him to make eye contact. Tyler's vulnerable, blurry eyes meet Josh's determined, almost angry ones. "I hate this city, okay? I hate being in one place. But nothing, nothing in this whole world, Ty, could make me hate _you_ , okay? I may not be traveling the country, but I have a home and a teeny tiny kitten and a beautiful, _beautiful_ boyfriend, and I wouldn't trade that for the world, Tyler, okay?"

Tyler pouts a little, mumbling an assenting sound into Josh's neck.

"Now, come here, dummy," Josh smiles, pulling Tyler close, hoping to drive away his demons with sweet, sweet kisses, if only for a little while.

..--..

Josh isn't proud of a lot of things. Try as he might, he's never been good at keeping promises or telling the truth.

And he's never really been good at understanding most things. For example, Josh has never understood why waves “break”. Waves are elegant and smooth and Josh doesn’t know how to break like a wave. He breaks with the _snapcracklepop_ of bone. But bones heal, skin mends, minds… don’t exactly get found.

And sometimes, sometimes Josh breaks. Snaps, if you will.

"Jesus fuck, Tyler, get out of my head." Josh's fingers tangle and pull at his own hair. "I can't fucking take this."

"Take what?" Tyler's eyes are wide and hurt and Josh can't force himself to meet them.

"You're so fucking nice, and perfect and you think I hung the moon or something but, Ty, I'm filthy and broken and you deserve so much better." His breath is coming in quick, sharp gasps.

Tyler shakes his head almost frantically, tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. "No, Joshie, please, you're perfect, you're--"

"That's exactly what I mean, Ty. You see me as something I'm not, okay? I don't know how I fooled myself into thinking I could last this long in a relationship- hell, in one place- but I can't, you don't understand." Josh is trying to back away, to leave. He needs to get out, away. He can't hurt Tyler like this, beautiful lovely Tyler, all sunshine and untarnished happiness. But if he doesn't do it now, it'll be so much worse. 

He can't let this get worse.

"Then make me understand, Joshua. I'm not fucking leaving until you do." Tyler's voice has gone steel-solid.

Josh has backed himself into a corner and sunk to the floor. Shaking his head against his knees he says, voice quaking, "I, I just. Staying in one place for too long hurts, Ty, here, under my skin. It feels like someone struck a match up my spine. I can't stay here, I'm sorry, I love you, but it _hurts_ , Ty."

Tyler kneels next to him, smoothing his fingers through Josh's hot pink curls, ignoring how he flinches at the first touch. "Then take me with you, Josh. We can go anywhere. You don't have to do this alone. You don't have to hurt like this."

Josh pulls back as far as he can, shrinking into the walls. "It's not just the place, it's the consistency. Every time I get attached, I fuck it up. I can't fuck you up, Ty, it would kill me." His eyes are pleading for Tyler to let him go, let him run.

"Baby," Tyler's voice breaks, tears rolling down his face. "You leaving would fuck me up more than anything else ever could. Josh, please, I'll do anything, just please don't leave me."

Josh is reduced to begging, “I can’t, Ty, please, please don’t make me.”

Tyler jerks back as if he’s been slapped. Josh seizes that split second of surprise to stumble to his feet and out the door, scrubbing tears from his cheeks until he feels the skin tear.

Back in their (is it even theirs? Is it just his, now?) apartment, Tyler slouches against the wall, shell-shocked as his world crumbles around him.


	7. Better Sorry Than Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title from a halestorm song of the same name

Josh drives. That’s what it always comes back to; Josh and his shitty-ass truck. His music blares, like he could drown out himself if he only tried hard enough. His hands shake on the wheel and he’s struck by an urge that he thought he’d lost, the urge to scrub at his skin until the water ran red, until he could rip the _filth_ from his core.

His vision blurs, turning the exit signs to watercolor as he steers the pickup off the highway to the nearest gas station.

He slams the door as he stumbles out of his truck and around to the back, crawling into his old bed. The sheets are cold and smell _wrong_ , like dust and detergent, not like him and Tyler.

Josh buries his face deeper in the pillow, and cries harder.

 _It’s better this way_ , he tells himself.

Right?

..--..

If Tyler’s life were a movie, this would be that part where he does something stupid and reckless, where he stops flirting with danger and finally makes a serious commitment. It would be the part where he goes tearing after Josh, catches him, makes him change his mind. Hell, this would be the part where he runs slow motion through an airport and stops Josh just as he gets on a plane, but. 

This isn't a movie. And Tyler really isn't that kind of guy.

So he calls Jenna, curls up in her bed and cries. She offers him ice cream, movies, anything. What he really wants is a rigor-mortis-stiff drink, but he can’t ask for that, so he just shakes.

Cinnamon bats at Tyler with his teeny tiny paws, nudges him with his hard little noggin. Ty just pulls the little ball of fluff to his chest and cries harder.

It takes a few days, but when Jenna reluctantly leaves for work on Monday, Tyler scrapes himself out of bed to scrub down in her shower.

He slouches back to the apartment in Jenna’s skinny jeans and clingy black shirt. It was all he could find, but the stares that linger- whether they’re appreciative or judgmental- make him feel grimier than ever.

The apartment still smells like Josh, like home. Tyler tears up, but he blinks them away. Setting Cinnamon down on the couch, he rummages through the pockets of Josh’s leather jacket, pulling out the battered, (not so) secret pack of Luckies. Josh tried to quit- smoking while dating a ~~n addict~~ straightedge seemed insensitive, apparently- but Tyler is almost glad he never managed it.  
He slings the jacket over his shoulders, letting Josh’s warm, dark scent wrap around him. He locks the door between him and Cinnamon and makes his way to the roof.

Seeing the city from so high, feeling so insignificant, so small, always oscillated between comforting and terrifying. Up this high, the sounds of the street blur into a soothing rumble, settling into his chest, next to his stubbornly-beating heart.

Letting out a deep breath, he settles on the ledge, feet obscuring his view of parts of the sidewalk.

Tyler shakes a cigarette out of the box, lighting it with Josh’s lucky zippo, and pulling his first lungful of smoke since. 

Since Mark.

The smoke doesn’t go down as easily as it used to, scraping and burning at his throat until he chokes, doubling over as he hacks. For a split second, he thinks he’s about to fall, and the panic that fills him shocks him so badly that he almost does.

He pulls deep breaths of clean air into his lungs, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette to the street below.

Tyler tries again, grey filling his lungs, swirling and dancing inside him. He exhales, letting the smoke drift through his lips to kiss the sky. For a moment, he wishes he were made of smoke, that he could float away, disperse when things get too hard, when he has to _feel_ things.

He crawls off the ledge, settling with his back against it. He pulls Josh’s jacket tighter around his bony shoulders. Tyler considers stubbing the cig out on his jeans, but his arm swerves, and the cherry is crushed onto the concrete next to him.

It’s just as well, he thinks. He never did have a very high pain tolerance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos encourage updates... just remember that...


	8. A Story About A Scarlet Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is structured differently than the rest bc its done like/as a song fic. for taken by sleep. rip yall.

_It just hit me as I laid my head down  
No one around in the dark cold night, I hear a sound_

Tyler can’t sleep. Not that insomnia is anything new or exciting, but he doesn’t know what to do about it now. Outside, he hears the rumble of traffic, the whisper of wind. His room is cold, arms empty, sheets too expansive. It feels wrong to sleep alone after months of having Josh wrapped around him.

_In my head repeat track of everything you've ever said  
Must be something, but it's nothing, so I just go back to bed_

He rolls out of bed, scrabbling for the lamp with one hand while he grabs his journal with the other. He flips through it, pages blurring under his hand. Words flash by so fast it’s like they were never there, until the pages slip from his fingers and the book falls open to the center. It’s a picture of Tyler, sprawled across the sheets in his boxers, horsing around with Cinnamon, wincing at his tiny, needle-sharp claws. The corner of the page bears a small sketch of Tyler’s eye-crinkling smile. The pencil strokes are hurried and careless, but with a loving attention to detail, capturing the sparkling light in Tyler’s eyes.

_It's 4, crack the door to the hallways in my dreams  
But it seems my hallway keeps closing in on me_

The lamp barely illuminates the room, stretching just far enough to cast disconcerting shadows on the walls. The door is cracked open, but the world seems to stop at the threshold, disappearing into shadows so dark they make Tyler’s breath stop as fear wraps a hand around his throat.

_Forcing me out, making me think about you and how you're gone  
I see 4:05 in teary eyes and then I write this song_

He takes a deep breath, pressing pen to paper and pretending he could ever forget about Josh. 

_And I just can't believe it has to be this way_  
_You know we say it seems to me that it was just the other day_  
_I saw your face, I saw your light, you ran the race, you fought the fight_  
_But now it's all being torn down for me tonight_

They were doing well, weren’t they? Tyler could look at his own reflection without gagging and Josh didn’t run away as much. They may not have been Joe Normal, but they were making it work.

_And I know it might be a little selfish for me to say  
But I need to know if you've thought of me at all today_

When he refocuses on the page in front of him, he realizes that it only reads “please, please miss me” over and over, in increasingly chaotic scribbles.

_Cause every day walk past the place you lived 5 days of the week  
And now it's 10 after 4 and I am taken by sleep_

He doesn’t use Josh’s favorite coffee mug. He asks someone else to make each order of cocoa at the shop. But Tyler’s only human, and sometimes he sleeps in Josh’s clothes, walks through the apartment with Josh’s favorite album blaring so loud that the stereo fizzles under the words.

_Spending hours on end, deciding what I'd say to a friend if I ever saw him again_  
_Cause I don't if I know, don't want to come across the wrong way_  
_And I don't know if I know, but I know I want to see your face today_

Tyler finds himself fumbling his phone off the bedside table, biting his lip in the dim light as he checks his texts for what has to be the millionth time that day alone. It’s no longer a question of what he’d do to see Josh again, but what he wouldn’t do, and the list grows shorter each day.

_And somebody told me they saw you cry and break down  
Do you know how hard that is to get around and think about?_

When he'd finally given up and gone to see Josh's sister, she just shook her head wearily and scrawled a phone number on the back of his hand. The person at the other end calls herself Halsey, and she keeps him updated on Josh. Tyler's heart aches every time he hears Josh's voice in the background, and it shatters down the center when that voice turns to broken, wretched sobs. When he presses, trying to find out what's going on, Halsey snaps, "I have to _go_ , Robert, I'll call you back."

_It's not like you to let emotions get the best of things  
Especially when everything is hanging in the air we breathe_

He fixates, it's a terrible character flaw and he knows it, but he can't stop. His hands curl into fists at his sides. Whoever fucking _dared_ to do that to Josh is going to have hell to pay. But, then again, it could've just as easily been Tyler's fault, so he does nothing.

_And I just can't believe it has to be this way_  
_You know we say it seems to me that it was just the other day_  
_I saw your face and saw your light, you ran the race, you fought the fight_  
_But now it's all being torn down for me tonight_

He can't do this, can't carry on like this. He gives in, searching the area code of Halsey's number. New York City. Finding him would be like finding a mohawked needle in a haystack, but in front of God and everyone, Tyler doesn't care anymore. He _wants_ and he's tired of hurting, of letting Josh hurt, of not letting himself have what he wants.

_And I know it might be a little selfish for me to say_  
_But I need to know if you thought of me at all today_  
_Cause every day walk past the place you lived 5 days of the week_  
_And now it's 10 after 4 and I am taken by sleep_

And, fuck it, Tyler is greedy and selfish and he doesn't regret it at all. For the first time since Mark died, Tyler doesn't think of repentance, doesn't worry about deserving anything. He sends Halsey a text: 

**From: Robert Tyler  
Sent: 4:10 AM**

**I'm on my way. Don't tell him.**

_I'll sing a song to you, my friend  
I'll sing a song to you, my friend_

Tyler's eyes slip closed, phone long forgotten, journal easing from his loose grasp. Exhaustion weighs heavy on his bones, and he finds himself sinking into a dream, one where sleep takes him far away to a place filled with light. A place where Josh is still his and neither of them have to hurt anymore.

_I'll sing a song to you, my friend  
I'll sing a song to you, my--_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst you should leave kudos or maybe a comment or even shoot an ask my way over at riotkidofficial.tumblr.com
> 
> Update- 1:37am 11.30.15- WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I FUCKED UP THE HTML I FIXED IT BUT STILL
> 
> Update- 1:46am 11.30.15- okay i think this time it worked


	9. Everybody Here Wanted Something More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... wanna make out"
> 
> "YOU'RE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO MY SUFFERING AND ANGST"
> 
>  
> 
> title from welcome to new york by taylor swift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone is drunk and idk which one of them is most like drunk me

Josh thought it would've been easier to get lost in the concrete jungle. The buildings arc above him like titans, blocking out the sky and letting everyone know just how insignificant humanity really is.

When he shows up on Halsey's doorstep, she doesn't ask any questions. She will, but for now, she just lets him collapse into her couch.

After watching Josh mope for about two minutes, Halsey gets bored. Crouching down next to his head, she nudges his shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, Joshua," she singsongs. "Wanna get plastered?"

He lifts his head from his arms, and vehemently says, " _God,_ yes."

She giggles.

..--..

Half an hour later, Josh is wearing one of Halsey's snapbacks backwards, and she's hanging upside-down off the side of the couch.

"No, man, you don't get it," Josh slurs. "He was like, fuckin, fucking perfect."

He turns wide eyes to Halsey. "He was an angel, Hals."

She squints up at him, face the color of an upset tomato. "Angel wasn't even an angel, Jooshua. Heh. Juice."

Josh scrunches up his face. "Angel was an asshole. But Ty was like. Not an asshole. He talked me down and made me cocoa and we watched the sunset together, Hasley, the _sunset_."

"... you called me Hasley."

"You gave me vodka!!" He shakes the bottle for emphasis, sloshing the contents down his shirt. "... fuck."

Halsey slings herself upright, making gimme hands at the bottle of vodka. "So why the fuck did you leave?"

Josh waves his arms around confusedly.

She takes a long pull from the bottle, barely acknowledging the burn. "So go back."

"I can't!!!!"

Halsey gives him an unimpressed stare. "You mean you won't."

"Fuckin' fine, that's what I mean. Does it matter?"

Halsey crawls across the sofa to plop down on his lap. Holding his face in both hands she says, seriously, "Saying that you won't means you know there's still a place for you. You're just so scared. Why are you so scared, Joshua?"

"I can't fuck him up, Hals," he pleads, begging her to understand, begging her to let him hide away here.

Halsey scoffs, sliding off his lap to make her precarious way over to the kitchen. Josh watches, absentmindedly swigging from the near-empty bottle.

Water glass in hand, Halsey sashays back to him, bending at the waist, as if about to speak with a small child. "You can't fuck him up, Joshie?"

He nods.

She tosses the contents of her glass in his face. "Then don't."

Josh stares, flabbergasted, at her retreating back.

"You know where the guest room is. And mine, if you need me."

..--..

Halsey's phone buzzes. She bats it off her bedside table, rolling back over to bury her head in Josh's shoulder and go back to sleep.

Halsey's phone buzzes. She groans, tousling with the blankets until she's dumped unceremoniously on the floor. She picks up the offending object, scowling.

**From: Unknown  
Sent: 11:30 AM**

**Hey, Josh's sister gave me this number and I wanted to know if he was okay. I'm Tyler, by the way, the (ex)boyfriend.**

Halsey smirks, shutting off the phone and spooning up behind Josh again. She runs her fingers through his hair.

 _Poor Joshua,_ she muses. _I hope you didn't really expect me to let you be miserable forever._

She drifts off again, smiling softly.


	10. Life Moves On, Can't Stay The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all. its done. it's been a fun ride and i've gotten a lot of super positive responses to this series and i really loved writing it. however, the destination has always been the end of the story, and here we are. i'd like to point out that at several points in this story, the relationship is mildly unhealthy, much of which is probably due to my lack of editing, and abandoning subplots midway. i intent to go back and fix those, so if this bit disappears, you know what happened. In addition, the rom-com inspired persistence is horrifying in real life. but... half of the purpose of this fic was to indulge in needless cliches, so, yet again, here we are.
> 
> kudos and comments (especially comments) literally make my day and i hope that you enjoyed this story as much as i did and maybe even want to check out some of my others.
> 
> as usual, this chapter is coming to you live at 2:30 in the morning on a school night, and, believe it or not, has been written since i started Destination: Nowhere.

Tyler has this vision of flying across the country and busting down Halsey's door with Cinnamon strapped to his chest in a baby carrier. Then Jenna reminded him that Cinnamon was just a tiny kitten, and probably wouldn't enjoy the fluctuations in air pressure or the huge amounts of people. So, Cinny stays with Auntie Jenna, and Tyler makes her text him pictures every hour, like any decent, concerned parent would.

 

On top of that, Tyler's plan of busting down Halsey's door and demanding (politely) where Josh was, fell through. He finds Josh entirely by accident, crossing an unusually deserted Times Square. He pats all his pockets, but his note cards are... somewhere else, probably, so he marches directly up to the boy with the cotton-candy curls, and shoves his shoulder to get his attention.

 

Josh whirls around and for a split second, all either of them can think is _oh, fuck._

 

_..--.._

 

He has no idea how Tyler finds him, but it either means Tyler knows him way too well or is all too willing to break the law into a million pieces for him. Either way, after the shock wears off, it’s kind of sweet.

 

“Is this what you want, Joshua?” Tyler yells, flinging his arms wide. “It’s fucking raining, and I followed you halfway across the goddamn country. This is literally a scene from the shittiest rom-com ever, is this what you want? Do you believe me now?” His voice drops abruptly. “Is this enough? Am I?” his voice cracks.

 

Closing the distance between them, Josh wipes the (rain? tears?) water from Tyler’s face.  “God, Tyler,” his own voice hardly holds steady. “You were always enough. _Always_ , Ty. I’m a mess, and I’m not going to make you deal with all of my shit, okay?”

 

Slapping Josh’s hands away from his face, Tyler scoffs. “Oh, fuck you. You don’t get to be a fucking martyr here. I signed up for the good and the bad, so fuck you if you think I’m going to flake the first time you have feelings. God fucking forbid you be a real person, right?”

 

Josh is speechless.

 

“I love you, okay? I just want you to let me.”

 

Resting his forehead against Tyler’s, Josh takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, Ty. I will. I’ll try.”

 

Tyler sighs, and manages a small, tired smile. “Can we go home now? I’m kind of over crying in the rain in Times Square, okay?”

 

And they both laugh.

 

..--..

 

Months later, curled together in a window booth in their favorite diner, Josh thinks back. Tyler's in therapy again, but so is Josh. Sometimes they go together, just to make sure everything runs smoothly. Their new apartment is on the ground floor of a building with no roof access, and Cinny has grown into fluffy monster of a cat, with a little orange tabby sister named Ginger. Josh is still trying to talk tyler into getting more so they can have  _"the spice cats, come on, Ty, please?"_

 

Debby and Halsey visit for holidays, making eyes at each other across the table, and Ash instituted a weekly family dinner, just the three of them- and Debby and Halsey, when they're in town. Ty is working on reconnecting with his family, and Mark's.

 

Still, Josh's favorite changes are the subtle ones. The way the back of his truck is clean and smells like Tyler, the way his shirts turn up smelling like a coffee shop when he hasn't worn them in weeks, the way Tyler's smile is so much less worried, worry lines fading from between his eyes.

 

But, Tyler, Tyler's favorite change is the way he always wakes up tangled with two cats and the boy he loves. Josh doesn't run away much anymore, but he gets his space when he needs it, and always makes sure to tell Tyler where he's going.

 

They're planning a long, long road trip through a handful of cities Tyler's never seen, and the kittens are going with them.

 

Back in the diner, Josh breaks the comfortable silence.

 

"Hey, Ty?"

 

"Yeah?" Tyler squeezes his hand where they rest together on the table.

 

"I used to want to die before I got old. But, I, uh," he looks down, toying with a loose thread on his jeans. "I don't want that anymore. So, thank you, I guess."

 

And his boyfriend kisses him.

 

-fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease leave a comment or maybe even send me requests or reactions at riotkidofficial on tumblr.
> 
> gotta go now im yelling


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